Take Her Or Lose Her
by IfUKnewUCouldNotFail
Summary: Starts with a little conversation between father and son about a certain woman. Picks up a month post season one finale. Tom/Rachel.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Last Ship.

LSLSLS

They were alone, it was late…or early, depending on how you wanted to look at it. The two men sat companionably in the otherwise empty wardroom, winding down after another too long day, each nursing a now luke-warm cup of coffee. Despite the comfortable silence, Tom had the distinct impression that his father had something on his mind. So despite his growing desire to turn in for the night, return to his cabin…to his sleeping children and hard couch...he felt he should give it some more time…he didn't have to wait very long.

"You need to talk to _your_ Doc Rachel." The '_your_' was simply dripping with innuendo.

"She's not _my_ anything." He replied a little too quickly. The argument was automatic and even to his own ears the statement seemed filled more with bitter disappointment than any kind of defensive argument.

"Yeah well, she doesn't seem to think she is either, and that is the problem. For two highly intelligent people, genius in her case…no offence…you're both idiots."

Tom stamped down on what would have been his natural reaction to almost anyone else on the planet talking to him like that and summoned up a large dose of the affectionate patience that was required when dealing with the oft-ornery man his father was…especially when he was convinced he was right about something.

"And just what do you think I need to talk to her about?" Tom was going to try to ignore the possessive implication for now…even though he suspected it was probably closely connected with the little chat his father felt he needed to have with Rachel.

"The fact that you're in love with each other." His father replied in a forthrightly blunt fashion. Tom was glad he had already swallowed the sip of coffee he had just taken. Yep, possessive implication closely connected, check. Gee, his old man was some piece of work…

"Dad, I just lost my _wife_ a month ago…" Of course as he said it he realized it ought to be his love for Rachel that he was protesting…not the timing of that love…lest he be seen to be accepting his father's overt allegation as fact.

Jed interrupted his son's protestations to continue his lecture.

"How many more chances at love and happiness do you think you are going to get, son? We are living in a completely different world than we were just a year ago, and it is going to be a very long time before things go back to being remotely close to the way they were before, I'll certainly never see it…and that's if they do at all. It's not like love and happiness were guarantees in life back then…and those things have gotten a whole lot less certain now. Now that just basic survival has been thrust back into being the foremost goal of human existence. A whole lot of people are never going to get the chance of experiencing true happiness even once. Are you really going to throw away your second chance at it because you don't feel the timing is exactly right?"

Incredulity saturated his father's last words and silence lingered between the two men for several moments, Tom mulling over and considering his fathers speech, depleting liberal quantities of that aforementioned patience as he went.

He finally summoned up the resolve to respond, to let his father down gently, because it was clear that the older man was not only convinced that he and Rachel could be a couple…he also seemed to like the idea...a lot. Tom couldn't remember his father ever encouraging him so heartily towards a woman. His father's first introduction to Darien as his fiancé had been met with lukewarm celebration…and frankly resignation.

"Look the point is moot anyway, she doesn't…." He was about to argue further when something his father had said finally sunk in. "Wait a sec, go back, you said '_each other'_, you said 'in love with _each other'_. What do you think you mean by that?"

"And this is where a large amount of the idiot part comes in. I meant exactly what I said. I told you that you were_ both_ being idiots about this, and I meant it. Everything you are feeling for her and foolishly ignoring…she is feeling for you as well. It's as plain as day…to everyone except the two of you apparently."

Tom considered his fathers assertions…it would be good…unbelievable…but…

"No, Dad, your wrong. I don't know what signals you think you are picking up on her end but…"

"Those…umm…signals as you call them, are better described as large blaring beacons and they are the _exact_ same ones I am picking up from you, Tom. So, answer me this. Am I wrong about you? Because if I'm not, and I really don't think I am, I would heavily advise you to consider the fact that I'm not wrong about her either. Think on that son, think long and hard…or you will loose her. You are taking her continued presence in your daily life for granted right now, but if you don't give her a reason to stay…tell her that you _want_ her to stay…one day you'll blink and she'll be gone."

"Dad, I just don't think…"

"Tom, if thinking is what has got you two stuck in this stalemate, I highly suggest you both stop it. It's times like this that aren't for thinking; they're for feeling and reacting. Make her yours, son, and do it now. Wait and you could very easily regret it. Something worse than just her leaving could happen you know, someone else could make her theirs first. It could happen son, because as clear as it is for everyone who knows you two, I don't think she believes her feelings are returned… And as I said, we are living in the end times here; she won't deny herself the companionship she craves forever. How does that thought strike you? Rachel moving on with a man who isn't you." His father asked with unmasked humor.

Tom knew he failed miserably to keep the pained grimace from his features at the thought of Rachel with another man in_ that_ way. And from the look of amused triumph on his father's features it was clear the older man had not failed to notice. Damn.

"Ok ok, so _maybe… just maybe…_ you're not wrong about me, but that doesn't mean she feels the same _whatever you say_ and it still feels far too soon. Even if I was able to let go of Darien so quickly what does that say about me as a potential mate for a woman? I'll be loyal to you now but the minute you're gone I'll be on to the next?" He spat the words with disdain. Not giving his Dad a chance to respond, he went on.

"And what about my children, huh? What about Sam and Ashley? What kind of message would I be sending to them if I were to just replace their Mother so quickly and easily?"

"Are you blind Tom? The kids are just as afraid of loosing her as you are; they're just not so scared of showing it. They've bonded with her, especially Ashley. The loss of Darien has afforded them both the unfortunate grim lesson that you _can_ lose those you love most. The loss of their Mother has made them want to cling to your Doc all the closer."

Tom _had_ noticed his children had become close with Rachel. Since she had first cared for them after they had finally got the ship back and had all made it back aboard after the ordeals of Baltimore. He had tried to care for them and his father as best he could at that time, but he had been ill equipped to do very much while running around rescuing his people, reclaiming his ship and ultimately putting a definitive stop to the evils that that place now represented. As such his family had not been in a good way when they had finally gotten them to the Nathan James' very busy infirmary.

They had taken heavy losses in the battle to reclaim the ship and end Granderson's vile occupation of the city. The number of original crew had now fallen below the two hundred mark… plus Dr. Tophet had not made it. There was no doubt Baltimore had cost them dearly, but to prove fate had a perverse sense of humor, it had also delivered him back his family…at least most of them…just moments before it would have been too late. The cure that he had thankfully been able administer to them upon their long awaited reunion had meant that they had lived through the proceeding events…something he owed Rachel everything for. He knew he would have watched his children die but for her.

Upon arriving at the infirmary with Rachel, his children and father supported between them, he had watched her take complete charge of every aspect of their recovery personally. Her mind and body set to the task with an almost inhuman zeal, barely leaving the infirmary that fist 24 hours, even after she had eventually announced that they would all fully recover.

He remembered thinking that it was like she was taking their lack of immediate return to full health as a personal insult. Like she considered her cure a failure because they were not completely healed and better the moment they had taken it, despite how far gone they had been by the time he found them. Even back then he had _absolutely _known better but he had been searching for an explainable reason for the clear anxiety and zealous fervor she had displayed in that infirmary for the recovery of his family, people that were almost perfect strangers to her.

He was quite sure that anyone walking by not knowing who she was; would have naturally assumed she was his children's Mother simply by they way she was acting towards them. The thought had brought feelings of strong ambivalence then, somewhat less so now…

From what he had gleamed, Darien had been infected first, but only mere hours before his father and children…and she had succumbed. Rachel had warned him long prior that her cure would not save someone if they were too far gone and he knew just how close to that invisible line his Dad and his children must have been by Darien's passing even before his arrival. In truth it seemed that Rachel's cure was more effective than even she had believed…that or it was her dire determination to see all the Chandler's alive and healthy that had done it. Either way he was beyond grateful to her, overwhelmingly indebted actually.

Of course in hindsight he knows that was one of many reasons he should have taken better care of her welfare during that time, but a selfish focus on him and his had kept him from paying proper consideration to her wellbeing. He remembered that he had liked that she was there with them…with him. He liked that every spare moment he got to check on him family, she was there also, and it had been a comfort to reassure himself that she was ok too. A selfish desire considering she would have been much more 'ok' if he had ordered her to get some much needed rack time. But that would have taken her away from his children, who had wanted her continued presence even after they had stopped needing it, and it would have taken her away from his presence too. Something that still made him anxious, had ever since he had left her, supposedly safe, back in Baltimore to go and retrieve his family and everything had proceeded to go completely FUBAR.

His father's continuing well-intended sermon brought him back from his internal musings.

"I and everyone else who knows you, knows that under normal circumstances you wouldn't even be considering another women so soon after Darien but these circumstances aren't normal, Tom. Fate has stepped in here…in _so_ many ways. It's a whole new world now. I promise you; nobody is going to think less of you for reclaiming a little bit of happiness for yourself after everything you have sacrificed for the sake of the human race. I don't think they'll think less of your Doctor either after everything she has done for them. And what's more I don't think Darien would mind either…"

"How can you say something like that?" Tom's protest was immediate, eyes snapping to meet his father's.

"Because I believe it's true, Tom. Darien had faith you were still out there, and not only that but she was sure that the reason you had not already made your way back to her and the kids was because you were doing something damn important that would help everyone including them in the long run. She had put her everything into making sure we all survived until you came home to us. She was incredibly angry with herself when she realized what she had done… Unknowingly carry the virus home to us…but through all of it she kept her faith in you…for the children, and she was right…about everything. You came and found them and you saved them…and me.

"How does that add up to her wanting to be replaced?" Tom countered bitterly.

"Because she loved you and the kids so much, you and they were her first priority in everything…including at the end. The absolute last thing she wanted was to leave this world thinking that she was leaving you to remain alone forever, leaving Sam and Ashley to grow up without a Mother…and she as good as said so."

"What do you mean? What did she say?"

"Right to the end she held firm to her belief in your return, but eventually she did accept that it was likely going to be too late for her. But even then she refused to believe that the kids and I had the same fate coming. Told us to give you a message when we saw you, because she was so sure that we would. Told us that we weren't to let you blame yourself, she had absolute confidence that every decision you would have made in dealing with this catastrophe would have been for the good of everyone and not just us and to reassure you that that was the right thing to do…no matter how hard or what the cost. Her very last words were to _order_ you to keep going, to survive and to be happy."

Tom couldn't prevent tears from filling his eyes, at first only threatening to fall and then proceeding to do so unchecked. He barely held back sob as he spoke next, familiar sorrow having replaced his earlier ire. "Dad, that doesn't exactly directly translate to 'I want you to find another woman as soon as possible'."

"No, not directly but it was what she said to Sam and Ashley that really cinched her meaning for me."

"Why? …What did she say to them?"

"She told them to remember her, but that they weren't allowed to use her as an excuse to be sad for very long. Told them that they were very loveable and that another woman was going to want to love them before too long…said that they had to let her…because that would make her happy."

A pause…a muffled sob…and another droplet of salty liquid making its escape… Tom brought a large slightly shaky hand up to his face. A hand that still held a large silver band prominently displayed on its forth finger, it gleamed noticeably in the artificial light. Tom wiped at his eyes, removing the evidence of his traitorous emotions but leaving the hand it in place to massage his temples…relieve the symptoms of the headache he could feel looming…his eyes closed.

"She said that?"

"She did." Jed replied with solemn candor. His tone strong, firm and final, broaching no argument to the essential truth he was conveying.

Tom didn't know how to respond to that. He couldn't believe Darien could say such a thing. On the other hand, he could completely believed it, such was the unselfish resolution he had seen her meet every other parental and spousal decision with.

He considered his band of silver again; the small shiny object that was supposed to be an eternal reminder of his love and commitment for one woman. With each passing day the band was presenting more and more of conundrum of guilt for him. He couldn't believe he was so much as considering removing it, felt eminently disloyal for so much as allowing the notion to occur. But the problem was he felt disloyal for wearing it too, for wearing the symbol of his love for one woman, while having…_thoughts_…about another.

After several moments lost in his reflections, with effort, he gathered what he could of his newly even more frayed wits.

"Dad, I need time to think about all this…and frankly, I think the whole situation needs more time…"

"I figured, and I can understand the desire, but mark my words and don't give it too much time... She's the woman who saved the fricking world for crying out loud, and she is gorgeous to boot, inside and out. I have no doubt that right now you're her first choice by a mile, probably the only one, but everyone's desire for companionship gets the better of them eventually. And I dare say she has other options if she cares to look. You don't think she's going to be a pretty attractive option for other men as well? I'm sorry but you're dreaming if you think you can be sure that you have time to give it time."

"I say make her yours now, but at the very least talk to her. Talk to her about the prospect of something happening between the two of you in the near future. Let her know there is hope. I'll stake my life that her response will be…. encouraging."

Jed paused and took a deep steadying breath before going on; he wanted his son to feel the gravity of his next and last words.

"Son, talk to her now…or risk losing her forever, those are your options, mark my words…"

THE END?

A/N: What do you think? I know it must seem like I have jumped ahead a bit, but what can I say? This idea caught me and wouldn't leave me alone until it was written. For those of you interested, as promised I do have two other fics; 'After The Vyerni' and 'After Baltimore' in the works. This fic simply made it to a publishable point first.

A/N 2: As always reviews are _very_ much appreciated, honestly they truly are writer fuel… ;-D


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: First off, I just want to say a big thank you to everyone and especially my lovely reviewers. I honestly didn't expect the high praise that I received for this fic, but I am very grateful for it.

A/N 2: I honestly did start this with the intention of it just being a short one shot but it got longer and more complex of its own accord and I admit that where I ended up leaving it did sort of lend itself to a potentially interesting direction for a continuation so I left the option of a future chapter open…and by popular demand…here it is!

A/N 3: This turned into more of a bridge chapter…though a pretty big one…but it does provide some interesting (I think) backstory into events that occurred before this story picked up. But next chapter will be Tom and Rachel…in a room…actually talking…I promise. ;-D

LSLSLS

With a heavy sigh of relief Tom lay his large frame down across the too small couch in his office. Again today, like so many days, it had seemed his duties were never to end. So, again it was well after midnight by the time he finally found his ship and his people settled and at peace enough for him to grab a few hours of rest for himself…before starting the whole cycle over again. The couch, aside from being as hard as a rock was also far too small for his large frame. But that was the beauty of avoiding sleep until it could be avoided no longer…basically any horizontal surface felt comfortable.

In the adjoining cabin his children slept peacefully…at the moment. His father was in there too, a thin mattress having been found and laid on the floor for him, turning the whole compartment into a sleeping-only room as there was no longer so much as a square foot of spare space to move around in. They were lucky they could still shut the door.

It was not like there were no other places for them, limited though they were. No, this current arrangement had come about because, aside from not feeling like it was right for him to take up extra space on a ship where space was at such a premium, just because he was the Captain…he already had considerable extra space allotted to him for that reason… He had also not been ready to be separated from any of his family again…not even over short distances. Not just on the heels of so many long months of separation and worry. Not after nearly losing them all… Not after losing Darien.

Besides the arrangement worked as it was not like he was able offer the constant supervision children needed, not even close. He did look in on them frequently, one of the few benefits of such a cramped ship, so it was not like they went the whole day without seeing him or anything, but still he wished he was able to spend more time with them.

No, as much as he would prefer to not let Sam or Ashley out of his sight ever again, that wasn't even close to being an option so it worked that his father was able to watch over them…days and nights. Kept his Dad out of trouble too…for the most part. And it wasn't like his Dad never got time to himself, quite often he would drop by his cabin during the day and find Rachel with them instead or as well as his Dad, the latter times his old man was off doing his own thing somewhere… Sometimes he would drop by and find nobody…at those times his next stop was always her lab…he usually didn't have to go looking any further.

So for numerous reasons he was not going to upset the status quo…because quite simply, it worked... and it was the best he could do and offer right now. Besides he really didn't want to have to tell the retired army ranger that there was very little official work for him to do on his ship if he did so desire to help out on anything above babysitting and galley duties. Yeah, he was really going to try and avoid that little tête-à-tête.

He had checked on everybody when he had first come in. All were fast asleep and his children's sleeping visages had thankfully looked undisturbed… but that could easily change…as it had almost every other night. Neither of them had been sleeping well since…well, since he had got them back. Nightmares had been plaguing both of them, but particularly Ashley.

Not surprisingly really, she was at that unfortunate age for tragedy to strike, where she was old enough to understand everything that was happening but still far too young to have the emotional maturity to be able to cope with it very well.

The origins of his children's nocturnal traumas were obviously no mystery. If seeing their Mother die before them while they watched on helplessly, believing at the time that they would follow her soon after, was not enough, they had then in short order found themselves in the middle of a modern day Auschwitz and all the horrors and inhumanities' that that entailed. He had pulled them out of there**_just_** in time…and Ashley had seen and was old enough to know it…unfortunately.

She had not witnessed everything he had, but still far too much. Her overly creative mind was running away with her filling out the rest…and thus regular night terrors were the norm.

It had been a week since his father had emotionally ambushed him in the wardroom early that morning with his _strong opinions_ in regards to Tom's personal life. Two very different women had been at the center of that pretty one-sided discussion…and his love for both of them had been the topic.

Not much more had been said after Jed had delivered the ultimatum that he firmly believed was his son's reality.

_Take her… Talk to her… Now…or risk losing her forever…_

He had made the promise to his Dad that he would consider what he had said carefully. But he had also warned him that haste in an such an emotionally complicated matter, one that held such all encompassing implications for so many people he cared about, was simply not in his nature…and that he should know that…having raised him.

His father had accepted his words but reiterated his warnings about wasting too much more time. Warned him not to let too much time pass without acting…at least in some small way.

Tom wondered if his father knew more about the situation than he had shared. He had said categorically that he didn't believe Rachel was close to any other man…yet…but what if that was a lie? What if the true reason for his fathers desire for haste was that she was looking at someone else…or more likely… someone else was looking at her.

Tom wasn't even surprised by the bitter taste of jealousy that could be felt in his mouth at the thought. The last week's contemplations had succeeded in delivering him_ a measure _of acceptance and comfort with the facts of his current existence.

Those facts were actually quite simple. It was the consequences of paths he was to choose due to them, that was the complicated part. The facts were this…he loved two women, but one was dead…and one was still very much alive. One was now his past and one…_might_…be able to be his future. It was a 'migh_t'_ for oh so many reasons. It was clear that his father believed only one logical path existed … and maybe he didn't disagree…but the 'how' 'when' 'what' and most worrying of all 'if' were giving his perpetually active mind little quarter for rest.

In any event, Tom thought he had most definitely kept to that promise to consider he fathers views on the situation. It truth it was a fairly easy assurance to make as even then he thought the chances of being able to forget any part of what his father had said, fairly slim. And that was even if he wanted too… which he didn't… not really… despite their painful nature in some ways, those words had also held hope. He just didn't know if it was hope he was ready to _actively_ grasp at quite yet.

His father had kept to his word too, giving him some time to think about circumstances. While keeping his word not to mention the subject again…with his mouth that was…his eyes had been very clearly _mentioning_ it every time he met them. And he could read the words they were saying too…_hurry up,_ _you idiot._ Conveyed with affection of course…but _not _with everlasting patience.

All this time, both before and after his and his father's little 'chat', Rachel had been becoming more and more of an everyday fixture in all of their lives. He called her Rachel now, most of the time anyway…ever since Baltimore. He had actually started it that very fist morning, before they had even gotten off the ship, when she had given him the vaccine she had created, created to save the world…and his family. He had felt so close to her in that moment, that saying her name had felt so natural, and he had not stopped to question it further.

Then all hell had broken loose and he had very much feared that he had lost her…along with his wife. He had internally chastised himself mercilessly for his part in it all. He had _left _her there, her and Granderson…alone…undefended. Barely even giving doing so a second thought due to his overriding concern for his family. He had thought she was safe there…how wrong he had been.

It was the source of a great amount of guilt for him…because his error had worked out good for him…relatively speaking. He had gotten what was left of his family back due to it…_she_ had been the one to suffer for his error. And for that he didn't know if he could ever forgive himself.

Eventually he and Burk had been able to gain entry back into the compound it was quite clear by that point that she and Granderson were being forcibly held in. He had left his family not far away in an abandoned building, given his father and gun and a radio… it had not been a perfect solution, but there had been no others. They couldn't infiltrate the complex with them…and leaving without his people…without Rachel was _not _an option either.

His first focus had been to get them out of there…and then deal with Granderson…senior…that was. By 'borrowing' a perimeter guards radio and intercepting internal comm traffic they had found them quite quickly in a makeshift holding cell on one of the lower levels…their guards had been quickly, and by that point, rather ruthlessly, disposed of. When he had first entered that room, Burk having stayed outside as lookout, he had seriously feared that the worst could have happened.

Rachel was on the ground…bloody…unmoving… Granderson…junior, seemingly unharmed, was hovering over her, sobbing.

In that moment he had felt his mouth go so dry that he wasn't sure how he had even gotten his next words out.

"Is she alive?"

It had seemed like an age transpired in the time it took Granderson to pull herself together enough to respond intelligibly.

_Sniff…_ "Yes, Sir. But I don't know what they did to her…they just brought her back not long ago…she was like this…and I can't get her to wake up…there's gash on the back of her head…this is all my fault." Another sob had broken her dialogue…followed fast by another and then another...

Tom had wanted to reassure the younger woman, but they were so very short on time that a short 'not your fault, get yourself together soldier' speech was probably the best he could offer. But before he could even do that a groan was heard from below and both sets of eyes swung fast to the woman on the ground.

"Rachel!"

"_Tom…"_ Her voice had been weak and disorientated…one clue of which was the use of his first name… the first time she had ever used it, out loud that was. Apparently it wasn't the first time she had ever said it in her head, if that was her instinctual response in a disorientated moment. He had liked it…a lot…but it had still been out of character… spoke of emotional barriers in the lowered position. Not a place his Doc usually kept them.

"Rachel, we're here, we're going to get you out of here. We don't have much time…can you walk?"

He had hated the idea of heedlessly moving her when she looked so damaged…but he had hated the idea of leaving her, or getting them all recaptured, a whole lot more.

"_I think so…" _Again her voice had been weak and while her eyes were opening at intervals, they had taken a while to be seen to focus on anything…a worrying sign… He had known he wasn't the Doc, but he had been thinking concussion at the very minimum…and he really hadn't liked the amount of blood that had been coming from her head either. He had noted, but steadfastly ignored the numerous smaller cuts and bruises all over her body… they had not been relevant to his mission of getting them out of that hellhole… But he had known then that they would become very relevant to who was going to be the target of a large dose of his ire later...and he had been right.

He remembered it hadn't taken his stubborn Doctor long after waking before she had been trying to get her battered body up and moving. He had applauded the effort in her dazed state, but she had failed completely at the task until both he and Granderson had taken a side each and basically carried her to her feet…her extremely shaky and unbalanced feet…

Once they had got her up, she had thankfully begun to come back to herself quite quickly. Sheer stubbornness probably…but he had never been so thankful for that particular personality trait of hers, as he had been in that moment. He was able to leave her supported only by Granderson, the two woman trailing behind them as he and Burk had made their way to the first stage of freedom, efficiently and mercilessly eliminating threats as they went. By pure luck and some skill they had managed to avoid wide spread detection until they were nearly at the perimeter again… and at that point there had been nothing for it but to run.

And they had made it, with minimal further injuries. Burk had been grazed by a bullet, but it was nothing that couldn't wait to be patched up. After losing their pursers, they had still taken the long route back to where he had sequestered his family, not wanting to risk being tracked back to them.

When he had finally been reunited with his father and children again, after his brief but necessary repeated separation, he had been unbelievably relieved to find them better off then when he left them… Such had not been the case the last time he had left them…

Upon deciding that they had reached their interim destination, Rachel had apparently given herself permission to cease using up her apparently endless reserves of stubbornness and had slumped against the nearest wall with a resounding thud. He had been at her side instantly, having already performed a quick check of his father and children's conditions. Granderson had joined him and had looked on worriedly has her eyes had drooped shut of their own accord.

"Sir… I don't think we should let her sleep…she definitely took a hit to the head and she was confused and unsteady when she came to." Granderson had been clearly trying to pull it together and act professionally, and he had admired her for it given the heavy toll developments must have taken on her on a personal level… but even back then he could easily see that she was only accomplishing the task to a certain point… The horror of revelations had still been very much present and playing out just behind her sorrow filled eyes. He hadn't known how long until she was not able to stop herself from giving in to them any longer. As it happened, she had held it together quite admirably until they accomplished their task…but the same could not be said_ after_ their return to the _Nathan James. _

And thus far, time had not heeled many wounds… Frankly, Tom doubted his Lieutenant would ever be the same again, after the arduous personal toll Baltimore had taken on her. The woman he saw everyday was mere shell of the one he had known before.

She had been right about Rachel but. He really hadn't liked that the number of people in his party, that were healthy and had their wits about them, had been dwindling so quickly… he knew then how hard it was going to make getting back to the ship… and even at that point he had had a pretty good idea that what they were actually dealing with was _getting the ship back._

"Rachel… come on, wake up!" As he had spoken he had moved his hands to either side of her face, his large palms cradling her dozing features. When his words failed to gain the slightest response, he had used his hands to lightly shake her… and when that failed too… he slapped her... not _too_ hard…but hard enough. He hadn't liked that _at all_… but it had worked.

"Wha…" She had come back to suddenly. Eyes suddenly wide and thankfully fully focused on him…aware. She had probably only been out for less than a minute…but even that had been plenty of time to give him a bloody good scare…

He had continued to watch her… and as he did his relief had bloomed. He observed her take in all her surroundings in her typical analytical manner…fully alert…her eyes flying to his questioningly when she had first laid eyes on his children. He had just nodded, answering her unasked but completely clear question.

He had watched her smile, happy tears filling her eyes as she had returned her gaze to them. There had been clear relief on her features as he watched her continue her examination of the rest of the room and its occupants. Her eyes had soon fallen on his fathers form, and he watched he smile in acknowledgement, clearly making correct assumptions about his identity without the need for confirmation.

It had not been until her gaze completed its sweep of the room that her face had fallen markedly, he had watched her do another quick sweep of their surroundings…then another…seeing if there was any corner of their abode her vision could have missed.

The next time her eyes returned to his, it was not a joyful question they were asking. He remembered he had squeezed his eyes tightly shut to try and stem the tears that were threatening to fall. When he had met Rachel's eyes again they had looked nearly as sad as his own must have looked. He had slowly shook his head to indicated the unfortunate truth, confirming that the woman she was looking for was not to be found…that she was gone.

"I wasn't fast enough…" He had admitted to her then. He had watched her take in his words, anguished tears filling her eyes… a strong reaction to the loss of a woman she had never met…

"No…Tom… **_I_** wasn't fast enough…" And that had been why. Rachel may not have ever met Darien, but she had felt responsible for her. Hell, she had probably felt responsible for every single person on the planet, given that she had appointed herself as the person to save them all… everyday she had failed to achieve that completely unattainable goal was one more that she had taken on more weight of loss, death and failure. Although even then he had known that it was much more personal for her in his case…

He had watched her try to unsuccessfully bury her grief at the revelation, probably only slightly older discoveries weighing her down heavily too… Baltimore had not been what they had hoped…far from it.

He hadn't needed to ask how much of Granderson Senior's actions she had become aware of. The look on her face then…together with the condition he had found her in… was plenty for him to assume things had gone just as sideways on her side as they had on his, after their separation.

Before he had been able to make any move to reassure her…as he had very much felt the need to do… She had gotten to her feet quickly…something he had not thought she was even capable of doing unaided…and made her way hurriedly to his children's side. He had watched on as she fell to her knees beside them, beginning a thorough examination of them, that had only been relaxed and unhurried on the outside, the result of a fashioned persona clearly meant to not worry his children…but he had seen right through it. She had most definitely been worried.

After apparently assuring herself that the children did indeed appear to be recovering well…it had been clear that he hadn't needed to tell her that he had found them infected, and obvious given them her cure…she had moved on to his dad. He hadn't heard what his old man had said to her, but within a few minutes she had let out a small laugh, that it had seemed like she had tried but failed to hold back. He had looked over from his position across the room, discussing his plans with Burk, to see a big grin on his dads face as he looked at Rachel…apparently pleased with her and his own ability to charm her.

And that was how quick his dad had taken to Rachel.

Eventually they had made it out of that godforsaken city…did what little they could to help its inhabitants by eliminating Granderson and her evil henchman…but he knew it wasn't enough. They may have prevented the population from continuing to be murdered at such an alarming rate…but not from dying.

Their mission was to find a way to mass-produce the vaccine…. And Baltimore had failed miserably to be a place that could be safely achieved…though not for reasons he ever would have predicted. Thus they had taken to the sea again…basically running away to lick their wounds…but he preferred to put it that they needed time to regroup.

Unfortunately Baltimore had taught them a very hard lesson in giving their trust too freely and easily in this new world.

When they had returned to the ship, he had briefly considered the thought that he should let Rachel finally get some rest ...but he had really not wanted to lose sight of her again…and his family had really not wanted to lose their now favorite doctor. So, before he could even talk himself into the idea, let alone verbalize the order, she had apparently read the ambivalent need in his eyes and stated she was better off here with them anyway. Better off awake and around people than asleep and unmonitored…maybe in a perfect world she would not be ministering to patients in a slightly concussed state…but this was not a perfect world. She had explained that she had needed to stay awake, and staying kept her awake…and useful. He had been forced…and slightly relieved…to accept her logic.

Days had passed and then weeks. They had all been reeling in the aftermath of their individual experiences in Baltimore…the whole crew. They hadn't come to a definitive plan B terribly quickly because what they had really wanted was to find a fully operational and _manned_ laboratory, suitable for large-scale production. And after recent events that had been looking bloody unlikely and almost completely unviable, because even if they had found a place suitable…how could they possibly give the inheritably required amount of trust to anyone so easily ever again?

Despite the time constraints they had been simply forced to proceed more cautiously…lest the world lose its last hope…or worse, it made its way into the wrong hands. Hands that would not care about saving people nearly so much a pushing their own agenda. Like Ruskov, like Granderson… He didn't want to think what the world would look like if people like that were allowed the power to freely impose their agenda on it. And unfortunately their vaccine could bestow significant power on the ones that controlled it…

He had told Ruskov once that they had no intention of keeping the vaccine for themselves, but was that still true? He had willfully kept it from both Ruskov and now Granderson… But that had been for the mission, he told himself, the mission of saving the world. Both leaders had freely admitted to their desire and intention to misuse the cure, and neither leader would have allowed them to keep going after getting what they wanted out of them. And if either of those nefarious powers had got their hands on the vaccine… been the only ones to possess it…they world would suffer…if indeed it even survived.

So their current plan was more abstract and unfortunately slow moving in nature. Rachel had boosted production of the vaccine on ship as much as she was able. And when they went ashore…always_ very_ cautiously now…to get supplies or anything that Rachel needed to further her production values…they would always take enough vaccine for at least several hundred people…up to a thousand, if they hadn't been to shore for a while and they had been lucky in procuring their finite supplies. They were constantly on the lookout for Intel that would allow them to raise production even more…preferably labs…with people…that they could trust.

Upon leaving Baltimore they had made their way North, at Rachel's suggestion, he had agreed. Almost everything south was way too hot, politically turbulent…to put it mildly… and held very little hope of still having what they needed, now that they knew for certain that the big labs and manufacturing facilities had become preferred targets in the unrest and complete societal breakdown that had followed the outbreak.

Frankly, he now realized he should have predicted that to be the situation a lot earlier, when the government…when it had still been around…was having so much trouble finding a secure a lab for them…and had been desperate enough to direct them to one 200 miles inland through what basically amounted to a very active war zone….and that had been more than a month before Baltimore…it was not like the situation would have improved in that time.

He could admit now that he had been getting quite demoralized with their slow progress. But thankfully, and finally it seemed now that their luck might be starting to change. On their last call they had found a small lab, with a few lab techs protected by a small group of citizens who had banded together to protect their group of survivors in the safe zone they had formed in their semi remote area. The lab had been a research outpost…. studying birds of all things. The irony wasn't lost on him, remembering the almost, but not complete lie Rachel had first come onboard his ship with.

In any event the group appeared to be legit. They had found them when they came into range of the radio signal they were transmitting. The group had been sending out a transmission saying that anyone not infected was welcome to join them.

After Baltimore it was an encouraging sign that the healthy were being called and not the sick…but they had still been on guard.

With the carrot of _possible_ information helpful to creating a vaccine being dangling in front of them…part of their new not-trusting-too-quickly policy…the group had allowed his people and Rachel to inspect all aspects of there camp, their people and the research their scientists had been working on. Sheer desperation meant they had of course been trying to find a vaccine too…but they had been extremely ill equipped for the successful completion of such a massive task…and their progress had showed it.

Eventually Rachel had declared that she believed their motives pure…he and his people had not been able to find any evidence to the contrary either and thus he had read the leaders and the scientists of the safe zone in on their little discovery.

Predictably they had been thrilled and readily agreed to produce and disseminate as much of the cure as they could…Thankfully they had looked extremely confused when he made them promise to give it to anyone regardless of their IQ level.

So they had now instituted their first land based production center for the vaccine. It was small but it was another several hundred doses of the vaccine being created every week…hopefully directly translating to several hundred lives saved every week.

And there was potential for it to grow too. While they had advised the group to take extreme caution in distribution, secondary locations and so forth, news of what they had would of course get out…hopefully someone else with manufacturing capability would learn of their breakthrough and after being vetted…could be given the formula to be a producer too. He could only hope that the wrong people did not get to them before distribution became prevalent in the area.

It was a concern for him…leaving the group on their own with such a valuable resource that millions had been killed for. He had warned the group of what had happened before…what could happen again. They had all been steadfast in their desire to do what they could…regardless of the risks…they would just be as careful as possible.

Tom knew the best chance to help them now was to get as much of the vaccine out there as possible. To make it no longer such a rare and valuable commodity…and thus their mission continued….

Tom was all of a sudden pulled from his tired recollections, his eyes that had drifted shut snapping open… He wasn't sure, but he thought he may have heard a sound from…he waited…

"No...no…don't!" The voice was as yet weak murmurs of dream protestations…as yet not graduated to the louder screams that caused the nightmare to end with the introduction of wakefulness.

Yep…Ashley. He knew it had been too much to hope that she and all of them could have one peaceful night. Tiredly he got to his feet to go and wake his daughter from yet another nightmare caused by a trauma he had failed to protect her from.

He was just about to open the door to their sleeping compartment when a soft knock sounded on his main door leading to the p-way…

TBC

A/N: Sorry this one took a little longer than usual to update, but my muse has the distinct tendency to flit around a lot…but thankfully she did eventually flit back to this one….psst…reviews _really_ help her stay on track better… ;-P


	3. Chapter 3

Tom waivered in his set course, his gaze shifting between the two doors, both calling to him. He gazed back at the room that held his restless daughter; she was silent again…at the moment. Making a quick decision he turned to answer the door leading to the p-way.

Since his family, who would have been the usual suspects in willfully disregarding Navy protocols to wake him at this time of night, were on this side of the door with him, some official matter that couldn't wait till morning for his input seemed the most likely explanation for the knock on his door. He just hoped it wasn't something that was going to take up too much of his time right now, aside from being so tired he felt about ready to drop; he wanted to go to Ashley, wake her, comfort her…chase away her demons.

Though he knew the unfortunate reality was that anything that was important enough to wake the Captain when he was_ supposed _to be sleeping, was usually not something that could be sorted out in a few short minutes. Frankly, it was reason to get annoyed if it was; it meant it could have been handled without his input to start with, or simply have waited a few hours.

If worse came to worse, Tom knew his Dad was in there with Ashley and her brother, and could help if he were to be called away…again. But not immediately. Despite the rather basic sleeping situation, that fact that his old man could sleep through a bomb going off had not changed. Part of the reason the rudimentary sleeping arrangement had made no never mind to him, was no loss of sleep to him. Yes, his Dad would wake…but not till Ashley had woken everyone else in officer country…and he had proven as much.

In the mere moment his musings had taken him, he had crossed the room and now clutched his office doorknob. Turning it, he pulled the door open, fully prepared to quietly but decisively show his displeasure to the person on the other side, should the situation not prove dire.

He was not expecting the person that actually stood…_timidly?..._on the other side of his door.

"Rachel." He acknowledged in some surprise but also in some pleasure.

"Tom…" She sounded nervous…why?

"What are you doing here…now?" It was even late for _her_.

"I heard Ashley…"

"How could you have heard…?" Her quarters weren't even close to his…

"I was passing by." She responded quickly and completely unconvincingly. After a moment considering the lie, he made the obvious gesture of sticking his head out into the p-way and looking left and then right very slowly…before turning his gaze back to her features…that were turning bright red before his eyes.

The implication of his gesture was clear to both of them, there was absolutely no reason for her to be 'passing by' this area of officer country. It led to nowhere except…officers. So unless it was any of them she was actually paying very late night calls too…a _very_ uncomfortable thought that he wasn't able to completely discount thanks to his fathers words…it was his door she had been loitering outside of.

The red blush covering her cheeks, clearly spoke of embarrassment…or guilt? She had been caught, doing something, but he wasn't remotely sure what. Was she embarrassed to be caught lurking outside _his_ cabin late at night…or feeling guilty about being caught leaving or entering_ another _man's cabin at that time?

But if that were the case why had she knocked? He supposed the answer was the same in either case; concern for his daughter. She was close to her. After hearing her in distress…she must be _very_ attuned to her to have heard the soft moans of distress from the p-way…she probably would have acted without thinking of her personal embarrassment at being caught doing…whatever it was she was doing.

Deciding to take pity on her, and not particularly wanting anyone to see…_whatever_…was currently going on between them in middle of his office entry way, he took a step back and gestured for her to enter too.

She accepted his invitation with apparent relief, stepping inside when he stepped back. When she was standing fully in his office, her smaller form less than a foot away from him, he sealed the door shut behind them.

There was silence…uncomfortable silence…for a moment or so, but strangely neither moved to put more space between them from where they had ended up they had first stepped in. There was no doubt that they were in each other's personal space, but both seemed ok with the situation, it almost felt natural…and if not natural, still…nice.

He noticed she was clad in casual attire, like him. Only on this ship, the only use he had for casual attire was to sleep in, whereas he had never seen her in anything else…unless you counted a HAZMAT suit.

As his gaze studied her form, he judged there was an extra level of comfort to her attire tonight, her loose sweatshirt looked old and well worn, her loose leggings also looked like they had seen better days. Both still looked fantastic _on her_…as a potato sack probably would…_on her_. He especially liked how the thinning material of the worn comfortable clothes clung to her small curves… He judged that these were probably the clothes she used to sleep in, or to relax in her quarters in…if she ever partook in the latter activity, of course.

Everything about her current appearance, added credence to the idea that she had not been 'on the clock' when she had _happened_ by his cabin. She had been firmly _off_ duty…

He was back to considering if he or another man had been her true goal of her coming down here tonight, when she spoke for the first time since entering the cabin with him.

"Should we check on Ashley…?"

And now he felt like a complete and utter heel. Here he was getting jealous of anther man that may or may not be in the life of a woman he had _absolutely_ no claim to… While at the same time, said woman was worrying about _his _daughter's welfare. There was something about unrequited love that turned reasonable, and he hoped, honorable men, into complete wrecks…did he say love?

When he was eventually finished internally chastising…and subconsciously realizing…_stuff_, he moved on to actually considering her question. His gaze went to the door that had returned to silence after the one brief moment of verbalized distress.

"I think she has settled herself again, just let me check…" And he did so, as carefully and as quietly as he could, he opened the door and crept inside. He was aware of Rachel having crept closer to the now open door behind him, but still keeping her distance, as per his request.

He observed his sleeping children in the small but just adequate amount of light coming from his office. As he had suspected and hoped, Ashley seemed settled again. He wouldn't go so far as to say she looked relaxed and at peace, unfortunately, but she didn't appear to be currently disturbed in any way either.

While he wished he could be sure that traumas were not currently being visited upon her, he knew she needed what sleep she could get these days so he made the call to leave her as long as he could.

Silently backing out of the room and resealing the door, he turned to find Rachel not a foot in front of him in his new position. Again, there were in each other's personal space and again neither of them seemed as thought they were going to move to remedy it…if indeed it was something that needed to be remedied…he didn't think it was…

"She's asleep…she seemed ok at the moment…" He spoke very softly, not only did he not want to wake any of the occupants of the other side of the door…there was no need to speak any louder, she was so close to him that it seemed even the softest whisper could drop straight from his lips and fall directly down onto her upturned face.

He watched Rachel nod…slowly. Now, she seemed to be the one distracted by other thoughts…she seemed to be making quite a study of his mouth actually…not that he was complaining, but she didn't seem to be quite comprehending of what that mouth was saying despite her in-depth study of it.

A moment or two longer and he saw her blink…once…twice… Her eyes snapping from his mouth to his eyes.

"Oh, right...Sorry!…Tom…I'm interrupting you. You need to sleep, I know you don't get much these days…I'm so sorry…I should be going anyway…again, I'm so…" She was _so_ embarrassed right now. Barging in here at this time of night like she owned the place, liked it was her right; like this was where she belonged… she had to remember that none of those things were realities… only dreams.

"You don't need to go yet."

"I don't?" She as hopeful at his words…but confused.

"I'm not finding myself so tired anymore…or at the very least, I doubt I will sleep. Why don't you sit with me awhile?"

Her eyes widened in surprise at his offer, but he also thought he saw some pleasure there too…he hoped he did at least, he hoped it wasn't just wishful thinking on his part.

"Umm, Ok…umm…I would like that." She seemed nervous again, it was a reaction that he was seeing in her with more regularity recently. It had been a completely absent personality trait when she had first come aboard his ship…and it hadn't exactly become common of late…but there was times…almost completely isolated to when she was with him…alone.

He moved to sit on his office couch, in a brave and deliberate more he did not take one side…but sat nearer the middle, giving her no option to sit that didn't put her _very_ close to him. He indicated for her to take a seat beside him, and he watched her eyebrows rise at the seating arrangement he had quite obviously and deliberately fashioned.

But she did not comment on it…or complain. She just sat exactly where he had indicated…if she had been truly against physical contact, she could have hugged the arm of the sofa and_ just_ avoided it…but she didn't, and thus their thighs were in full contact as they sat side by side. While she may have still had an edge of nervousness about her, she in no way seemed uncomfortable by the arrangement. He even caught her glance down at their laps with a small quiet smile on her face. Good, first indicator was definitely positive.

"Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about…Tom." He smiled at that. He had developed a comfort with calling her by her first name a lot faster and easier that she had with him. It was ironic, with him being the military one of the pair of them. She _did_ use his name more often than not now, especially when they were alone like this, but it was clearly still a long way from being second nature to her…like it had become for him.

"Yes, actually a few things."

"Oh?"

As much as he would have preferred to talk to her about _potentially_ happier things, thanks to the paranoia his father has instilled in him, he felt the need to get a far less pleasant topic out of the way first. He just hoped he didn't either insult her…or worse receive an affirmative answer to his question. He just didn't even know where to begin with such an uncomfortable question…

"Rachel my father said some things…actually he said al lot of things…about us specifically…"

"Us?"

"Yes."

"As in you are me?"

"Yes."

Her eyes narrowed. "As in…you and me…or _you and me_? She put all her inflection and meaning into the second pronunciation of the words…and waited for his response.

"That latter one."

"Oh." She understood then, but remained silent…the embarrassment back.

"Does that bother you?"

"No. No…I just…can't even begin to think, what it was he could have said…"

"Like I said, quite a few things… he has some pretty strong opinion's across the board of the entire situation actually…"

"He doesn't approve of me…" She interrupted on dejected tone.

"What? No! That's not it at all… Rachel, do you _really_ believe my Dad has a low opinion of you? I would have thought it was obvious that he likes you very much, the man's not exactly know for his subtlety, and you saved his life for god's sake…his grandchildren's lives, even mine…"

"But that's completely different to thinking that I would be good for…_any other part_…in his family. I can completely understand why he would think that it was best that you discourage a…_closer_ relationship."

Tom considered her for a moment and thought that the only good part of her _totally misguided_ thought process was that she seemed saddened by it. That, in turn, gave him hope.

"Well congratulations, Rachel, that was basically the_ exact_ opposite of what he actually said."

"It is?" She totally seemed surprised by that…and a little confused, as if she was trying to make her brain remember what _exactly _was the exact opposite of what she had anticipated his father had said to him.

"Yes."

"Oh." She was saying that a lot. Every time she was lost for anything more to say…which was a lot.

He decided to dive right into his original question. Before he could give in to the desire to bulldoze right past it and on to…_other things_. He wanted to do this right; he wanted…needed…them to be on the same page. Unfortunately, right now, it was clearly evident that they weren't.

He could only hope that it was only her own self-consciousness…that he had only just realized she possessed so strongly…that was the reason for her contrary thoughts. He hoped against hope, that that was all it was, and not any actual lack of desire, or enough desire, for what he desired...if that made sense.

It would just be too cruel if he had come this far, to admit to what could easily have stayed buried…and to not have her feel…_to want_, the same as him.

"Rachel, I feel it is only appropriate to ask you something first…my father said something, and I want to make it clear that he didn't actually say that you _were_…but I was left with enough doubt that you _might_ be…and…"

He looked summoned the courage to glance down at her features and saw they were heavily marred with confusion.

"You have no idea where I'm going with this, do you?"

"Not a clue…maybe you should just say it…ask me what you want to ask me…"

Good advice…he guessed. "Ok…here goes, are you seeing someone?"

Her eyes just about bulged out of her head. She clearly _really_ hadn't guessed that that was a direction he might have been heading.

So surprised was she that she didn't…_couldn't _answer right away.

He immediately worried that her pause was indicative of the forthcoming affirmation he had been so worried about.

"Rachel, just know that all I want is your honest answer here, you don't have to keep the secret for any loyalty reason. It doesn't matter who he is, military, non-military…I promise, I won't take any action against him…I think we're long past that now..."

Doesn't mean he wouldn't _want _to, but he was a man of his word and he genuinely _did_ think they were long past the point where he could make such harsh personal demands of his people and punish them when they inevitably fell short of the no longer realistic expectations. It wasn't like they got shore leave's to go and let off some steam, or feed their souls by spending time with loved ones.

It was something for him to seriously consider actually, his people weren't robots and he risked running into a lot more problems of the Foster/Green variety if he continued to treat them like they were. But he was getting off topic, it _was _something to consider…but later.

As much as he would hate it, if she chose..._if she wanted_…some other man above himself, he would have to find way to be ok with that, even happy about it…for her sake. She needed to be loved… and the only notion worse then not ever being allowed to love her himself, would be her never being loved by another other man either… because he had never met a woman who needed or deserved to be loved more than she did.

Rachel was apparently still unable to formulate an audible response to his question. He supposed it had probably only been a few mere moments, but still, he did not take that as a good sign. He decided to take pity on her, he did not like that he was making this conversation so uncomfortable for her. Of course, it was hardly comfortable for him either, if what he suspected was indeed true…

"Rachel, I am serious, you have no reason to try and protect anyone…"

"Captain! no! no, no, no! I'm sorry, it's just…it never occurred to me that you would think that! _That I was sleeping with one of our crew_…_Why would_ _you think that_? What impression could I possibly have given you? You said your father said something, did _he _say that I _was_…" She seemed almost distraught at the notion.

"No, Rachel! No, he didn't, not exactly…"

"Not exactly?!" She raised her voice slightly then, and then looked at his bedroom door embarrassed, realizing she needed to keep her voice down regardless of her roiling emotions.

"He didn't. _He didn't_." He said and repeated more resolutely.

"Then why did _you_ think it?"

"I didn't really think it, Rachel, I worried about it, in a rather paranoid manner, I might add…there's a difference."

"You were worried about the possibility that I was…?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Now here was the moment of truth. As much as they both were aware, and had been aware of _something _possibly between them for quite some time…longer than appropriate really…they had never verbalized it like this. Which, of course, was exactly what had lead to such miscommunications as the one they had just, hopefully, resolved. He was finding it difficult to find the right words to respond, but one single word seemed to be a glaringly obvious answer to her question, so he threw caution to the wind and used it.

"Jealousy."

"Jealousy?"

He nodded but didn't elaborate.

"You were jealous that I might be with someone…?"

He nodded again, definitely, and added a single word. "Very."

"Why?"

"Do I really need to answer that?"

"No…you don't…but I'd like you to."

It was a fair request and he couldn't deny her. He didn't believe she would be actively trying to draw him into admitting feelings of this nature, if she didn't also carry some that she was willing to give voice to as well…or at least that was his fervent hope.

"I was jealous because the though of you with another man is almost physically painful for me."

That was quite an admission. Still lacking in the actual word she would have liked to hear, but still, quite an admission…and he looked infinitely nervous about it. She had a strong desire to hold him, reassure him…pour out her heart to him… as it very much seemed that such actions would be _very_ well received by him…amazing.

But she did feel the need to clarify something first, like him she guessed, she wanted things clear moving forward… She could only hope, when all their chips were on the table, they really did match up in their desires and expectations of one another.

"I'll tell you now that I feel a little guilty about this…but…"

"But?" Was she going to tell him that she's didn't feel the same way at all, despite everything…

"But I have to admit that what you just said…pleases me…_a lot_."

"Why do you feel guilty about that?" He was confused…on one hand this seemed to be a good sign, but on the other…

"Because I despise women who garner pleasure from making their men jealous." She explained.

He couldn't respond to that. There was so much to consider in it. For one thing, there had been a _very_ possessive implication when she said '_their_ men'. Was that how she felt about him, that_ he_ was _hers_? He was certainly ok with that…so long as he was allowed to claim her as his,_ and only his,_ in return. Before he could work up an even close to adequate response, she continued.

"I have to admit, I am still very curious as to what indication I could possibly have given you, that could have provided that particular rumor you were so worried about, with any substance at all…I would have thought it infinitely more likely that the opinion of me on ship, was that I was some kind of frigid celibate Nun! …that's certainly how I've been living my live since I came on board…then again, that reality wouldn't have been too different back on land actually…"

There was no need to travel further down that musing path. Her love sucked, had done for a long time, it was a reality, no need to dwell.

"There is no rumor, Rachel, about _either_ prospect, at least there are none that I am aware of. It was all me, I let my imagination and paranoia run away with me, based on the smallest hint that my dead said…which now that I think about, was probably designed to prompt me into exactly this action..."

"Why, what did he say?"

He took a long deep breath in and out. Well, he had walked into this with the intention of laying all his cards on the table. But it was difficult. When opening one's self up so completely and allowing one's self to be so very vulnerable to another person, a person who's opinion of you, _very much _mattered, it was impossible to not be some level of anxious of the outcome.

But there was never reward without risk, and he hoped that he had correctly judged the situation, and that the likelihood of reward was much higher than that of risk.

"He said you wouldn't wait for me to be ready forever…he made it sound like it was quite urgent that I get my act together or I would be too late. His words made me think he might have known something he wasn't saying…and your _personal_ _relationship situation_…and then when you were out on the p-way at this time of night in your sleep clothes…I know you weren't 'on your way' anywhere else. You could only have been coming or going from an officer's quarters…and I wasn't confident enough to absolutely believe it was mine…" He finished his admission on a quiet note.

She was silent for a moment, her face unreadable, even when she went to speak again.

"Sooo…you_ don't_ really want to be having this conversation with me now, you _aren't_ actually really ready…"

"What? No! I would not be saying any of this, if I weren't ready, if I didn't _want_ what could come of it…want it _very _much."

"But if it was your Dad that pushed you…"

"No, no, he didn't, he made me realize what was true…that I couldn't pretend that you would wait for me forever."

"But that's not true! I would wait…_I will_…I _don't_ want anyone else…and I _really do_ want you to be ready…"

"I know that now, Rachel, if I had kept my head, I would have known it then…"

Silence descended then, but it was not uncomfortable…Tom made the somewhat brave gesture of trailing his hand over to where hers rested on her lap…and taking that hand loosely in his.

Rachel started down at their newly and losing joined hands, she obviously didn't protest the action, quite the opposite she sent him a quick warm smile to him before glancing back down at their hands, her hand looking small and almost frail when contrasted against the large and strong one it was held in. It made her glad she was already sitting down because otherwise she may have fallen; such was the feeble weakness she was experiencing in her lower extremities.

"It was your door." She spoke quietly, her gaze still on their joined hands.

"What?"

"It was your door I was loitering outside of in my sleep clothes…no on else's." At the admission she appeared to make an even more in-depth study of their interlinked hands. Tingling sensation travelled up his arm as she began to lightly trail the tips of her fingers over his palm. God, how could such a simple and …_almost_…platonic act, be so damn erotic…?

"It was?" He was surprised and eminently pleased at her open admission, though it did still leave the 'why' pending… And her talented digits were still being eminently distracting…

"Hmm…I had come to check on the children…and Jed…I just wanted to do that before I went to sleep myself. I thought I could sneak in and out quickly when everyone was hopefully asleep. You don't lock your door…and I've done it lot's before…I haven't been caught before... But tonight, just as I turned the corridor, I saw you go into your office…I should have just left then, or made myself known to you…but did neither…I don't even know what I was waiting for, it was a strong moment of indecision…but when I heard Ashley, I just reacted…"

"Rachel, I must have gotten here at least _twenty minutes_ before you knocked…"

She turned beet red at his approximation, but did not argue the number…or in any other way verbally answer his claim. What she did do was move her soft clever fingers to trace gentle invisible patterns on the underside of his wrist…he had not previously known than was an erogenous zone for him…he definitely knew now…

"Are you_ sure_ you are ready now, Tom? Because we _absolutely_ _can_ go back…we can go back, with the only difference being, that you can be completely confident that you can take all the time you need to properly mourn your wife. And do it knowing that I will still be waiting for you, no matter how long you need to take. The absolute last thing I want is to push you into something you are not ready for yet…"

Her words and her caresses combined to created an even more intoxicating mix of love, lust and passion, than the one he was already getting used to feeling on an everyday basis anyway.

"Rachel…I _am_ ready…now I think, more than ever. I'm not saying I will not continue to mourn Darien, I will, possibly for years yet. But I _promise_ that I will never let my sorrow for my first love's loss ever detract from how much I love you…or prevent me from showing you that everyday if you will let me. If you can be ok with that…then I very much want for us to move forward …now …together."

Silence for several moments…Rachel staring deeply into his eyes. Her emotive responses to his words, clearly great and numerous, but he could in no way tell exactly what emotion she was feeling most strongly in this moment. Not from just looking into her churning deep orbs.

He hoped he had not said too much, not been too truthful so very early in their theoretical relationship. By admitting that he was still in mourning for his wife, and thought he would be for some years…at least in some small way, he hoped he had not scared her off. When it came to entering a relationship with baggage…he knew had lot's, children, a recently deceased wife… He knew because of all that, he was no great catch… Still, he very much wanted her to be able to accept him as he was and _want _to catch him.

"You love me…?" She whispered after several more moments of internal musings and external gazing.

That was the part of his speech she had clutched on to? Not his admittance that he was not completely over his wife's death… Oh well, her question was an easy one to answer.

"Yes, Rachel…I do. So much. I have for much longer than I have been able to admit to myself…Rachel I know I am bringing a lot of baggage to into this but if you can find a way to…"

She cut him off then…but not with words…with a kiss.

Moving quickly, she turned to face him more fully in their respective positions on the sofa, before launching herself at him mouth. She kissed him with all the passion, lust…and unconditional love that she felt for this man that had just bared his soul to her.

Tom, while initially shocked by the abrupt escalation in proceedings, didn't take long to get with the program. He wrapped his strong arms around her slim form and pulled her too him even closer, even as he raised the intensity of the already passionate melding of mouths and souls. It wasn't long before tongues entered the fray too, in a sweet and ancient battle for dominance.

He felt her moan delightfully into his mouth as he let a single large hand make the journey beneath the small barrier of the loose sweater she wore to discover the heated skin that lay beneath it. Encouraged, he let his other hand make the journey too and before long he was embracing her slim smooth back, heated skin to heated skin.

When he spread out the fingers of his much larger hands across her small back, he felt like he was encompassing the entire distance of it…and the contact felt amazing. It reminded him of more intimate ways they could be connected… bare skin to bare skin.

He pulled her to him even closer then…or maybe she did, by use of the fists that were bunched in the front of his shirt, grappling at his chest. Their mouths and tongue's continued to duel ardently, neither of them seeming to be waning in their resolve to freely allow the kiss to continue indefinitely.

In fact, they were both so caught up in each other and the kiss they were fervently sharing, that they both failed to hear the clear sound of a door opening. It wasn't until a voice finally spoke that they broke apart as if burned and spun to face the intruder to their _very _private moment.

TBC

A/N: I know, know, another person at the door, another cliffy…I can't help it! Beside I have to cut if off somewhere and this chapter was already over five thousand words long… And unfortunately that leads me to some bad news on this story's front. I'm feeling _very _demoralized right now... I lost over a thousand words of this story today. They disappeared into thin air somewhere between being written last night and reopening the document for a final read through this morning. I realize it could have been worse, but right the wound is fresh and it still feels pretty bad. I pushed ahead and re-wrote the last little bit of this chapter as best I could, but it was a struggle and not enjoyable at all. Right now, I'm just feeling sick about the loss of a large chunk of what was going to be the next chapter and I can't even begin to see how I am going to recapture what I have lost… Right now I'm just feeling…blah. So, as you can imagine, I can't even begin to estimate when I might have the next chapter ready… at the moment the task seems beyond daunting… :-(


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